My daughter arrived in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) in the middle of the night on the eve of Thanksgiving. A tough respiratory virus attacked her lungs, and she needed a substantial amount of oxygen support. And now, this unexpected illness meant Thanksgiving was going to be completely different than we had all planned.
Are you scrounging for thankfulness this holiday season? Holidays can be a challenge for those walking through hard days. Perhaps you feel like you've been handed the short-end of the stick; your child is struggling, you’re exhausted and it seems like everybody else has life with a bit more gravy. It’s easy to focus on our circumstances, take stock of what we have and where we are and end up feeling completely void of thankfulness. Is there a cure for this?
I first suspected I had ADHD as a teenager, but finding the right professional to take me seriously was much harder than I expected. Previous attempts only ended in frustration and tears.
Enjoying the holidays with a food allergy sounds like an oxymoron doesn’t it? After all, eating together is an integral component of the holiday season. I looked forward to making our traditional holiday foods until I was diagnosed with a dairy allergy in 2012. What was to enjoy about the holidays when the foods associated with it were off limits to me?
It was a short, ten-minute drive from the hotel to the residential facility. I maintained composure while I navigated the busy public roads, and then residential streets. I had a whole range of emotions racing through my body, mind and spirit as we pulled into the campus. This was not just a pleasure drive or a routine errand, this was a significant milestone in the life of my son and our family.
I started dreaming the day I found out I was having my first baby. As we made preparations for her birth, I enjoyed reading different pregnancy books. By the time we took Jaycee home from the hospital, I had armfuls of pamphlets, books, and resources on Down syndrome. I read as much as I could to find answers to many questions, and here’s where I found them.
Gasp and sacrilege! How dare I entertain the idea of the mother of God worrying about the divine child entrusted to her care. Until I remember that, though this baby boy was fully divine and fully human, his mother was not. Instead of asking What did Mary worry about?, maybe this is what I should ask instead: What did Mary, a human mom like me and you, do with her worries?
